Looking For Angels
by CelestialSonata7
Summary: "Walk this world alone try to stay on my feet. Sometimes crawl, fall, but I stand up 'cause I'm afraid to sleep. Open my eyes to a new day, with all new problems and all new pain." Everyone deals with hardship. What will you do to help someone along the way? NO SLASH.


**Author's note: Okay, first off, this is loosely based off the song 'Looking For Angels' by Skillet, so I suggest you get that song and listen to it on repeat while you read. ;) The reason I say this is because the song sets the **_**perfect**_** mood for this fic.**

**Secondly, I originally saw this idea in my head, as a music video. . .With these clips that, don't exist. It would've been so angsty and beautiful and amazing as a music video, but again, the clips I saw don't exist. XP**

**Anyway, the reason I bring that up is because the whole style of the way I wrote this is like how you would see it in a music video. So there's barely any dialogue in it. Just a fair warning for what you're going to read.**

**It's probably really boring, so I'm sorry.**

**Anyway, angst and bromance all around. :)**

**No slash, just friendship.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

* * *

Looking For Angels

_"Going through this life, looking for angels. People passing by, looking for angels."_

There are some days that are happy and fun and normal. When nothing's wrong and smiles light up the world and everywhere is filled with the music of laughter. The days where no one has a care in the world, where everyone is happy and content. No one is thinking of bad or sad things.

Then, there are days where it's hard to get up in the morning. Where you don't want to face the world, because you know that all it has to offer is heartache and sadness and loss. The days where it's harder to pretend that there's nothing wrong, to pretend that you're happy. To pretend that your heart _isn't_ filled with sorrow and weighed down with sadness. The days where you fee like you just can't take it anymore.

This was one of those days.

Kendall had been feeling it all through the day, from the moment he woke up, all throughout school, continuing to when he got home. His mother and little sister however, didn't suspect a thing, and that's just how Kendall wanted it to be.

Kendall's sister had asked if he wanted to watch a TV show with her when he came home from school. He had plastered on that smile that had gotten him through many days like this, and nodded, letting his sister lead him to sit on the couch with her. She had snuggled up beside him, laying on his chest and watching the TV happily.

Kendall had wrapped an arm around her shoulders, trying to hold in his tears. For some reason, today was just harder for him than others. He was thankful that little Katie hadn't noticed the subconsciously tight grip he had around her.

After that, Kendall's mother had asked Kendall to help her with the dishes. That smile was back and he nodded, getting up, ruffling his little sisters' hair the same way he always did, and following his mother into the kitchen.

Mrs. Knight had chatted Kendall's ear off as they stood at the sink; His mother washing the dishes, then handing them to him to dry and place in the cupboard. Kendall smiled and nodded, listening half-heartedly to her stories. It's not that he found them boring or didn't care, it's just that his attention was diverted to merely keeping that smile on his face, and the tears safely behind the barrier of his shiny emerald eyes.

After the dishes were done, Kendall had said that he needed to do his homework. He'd given his mother a kiss on the cheek, just like he always did, and left for his room.

And that's where Kendall was now.

But the homework was left, untouched, sitting on Kendall's desk, as he sat on his bed, staring at the wall.

Kendall felt like he needed to get out. Just for a while. The walls of his small, humble house felt suffocating at that point. He needed air, and maybe some time alone. To think.

So Kendall grabbed his jacket and tip-toed downstairs. He peeked around the corner into the living room, finding his mother and sister curled up on the couch together and watching TV.

Kendall walked up behind the couch, making sure his footsteps were heard so as not to startle them, and wrapped his arms around the two.

Kendall's mother greeted him happily, smiling as she touched his arm lovingly. His sister offered him a spot beside her, inviting him to watch TV with them.

But Kendall gently shook his head. His excuse was that he needed to go to the library for a certain book for his homework. He didn't know how long it would take to find it so his time gone was unsure.

Mrs. Knight smiled and nodded, permitting Kendall's leave. She told him to be careful and stay out of trouble.

Kendall offered her a small smile with the teasing remark of 'No promises.' He gave his mother and sister each a kiss on the cheek, before finally leaving the house.

The air was chilly as Kendall walked down the street. The wind whistled softly as it blew passed his ear, carrying dust and fallen leaves along the road. Kendall stuffed his hands in his pockets, a small shiver racking his body as the cold sneaked into his jacket. He didn't know where he was going, but his feet seemed to, so he just let them take him to where his heart truly desired.

* * *

He couldn't remember what had started it. For all he knew, he was in fact, wrong, and the fight was his fault. His point could be invalid and unreasonable. But James wasn't about to back down now. His father was constantly insulting and ridiculing and condescending him all his life, so the fight didn't matter. James knew his father deserved everything James was yelling at him.

James couldn't remember the last time he'd been happy. He couldn't remember the last time his father was happy. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his mother smile. James couldn't remember _ever_ having fun with, or even _liking_ his dad.

James could however, remember the last fight they had. It was the day before, when James had accidentally dropped his glass on the floor. And the day before that, when he'd come home with a 'D+' on a Social exam. And the day before that. . .

James and his father had fought about petty little things since he could talk. They hated each other, and made sure the other knew it. James however, reeled his temper in more than his father ever did, for the sake of his mother.

Mrs. Diamond hated when the two fought. She always feared that the fighting would one day escalate into something more dangerous. They had had pretty bad fights before, mostly it's just screaming at each other until one of them storms out of the room and disappears for a day or two. Those she can handle.

But it's the fights that end in broken glass, and tables, and noses, that scare her the most. And James knew that.

So everytime things blew up like they did, and James found himself in yet, another argument with his father, he tried his hardest to let it go, to calm down. The sight of his worried mother watching from afar usually helped with that.

But not today.

James' father had called him lazy, inconsiderate, an idiot. His father had screamed at him about how much of a disappointment he was, about how much he wished he'd never been born. James had heard all of this before. It rarely bothered him anymore. He didn't care what his father thought about him.

But Mr. Diamond had crossed the line, when he screamed about how this was all his wife's fault. That she had insisted on having a baby, that she brought James into this world to torture him.

James could take the insults about him, but when his father turned on his mother, that's when his temper flew, unleashed, unchecked, and unstoppable.

James screamed at his father. He didn't care anymore, he just hated him more than anything at that moment. His voice was going raw but he kept the yelling, the flow of words, the anger bubbling over. He didn't care anymore.

* * *

_"We want it. We want, we want reason to live."_

Two hours. At least. That's how long Carlos was sitting there, staring at the chalkboard. Two hours.

The special after-school class. That's where Carlos was. He was still at school, after everyone else had left. He was still sitting in a desk, staring at the chalkboard, trying to learn. Carlos was glad that no one else was there with him. The humiliation was bad enough already.

The special class, for kids who need extra help. For kids who don't learn the way normal kids do.

'_For the retards._'

Carlos covered his ears as his eyes squeezed shut. He tried blocking out the voices, laughing at him.

'_Stupid. Retard. Idiot. Loser._'

The names stung and burned. Carlos' eyes leaked with tears that streaked down his face. He knew he was stupid. He couldn't understand even the basics. He needed it to be explained to him a hundred times over before. . .Well, nothing ever clicked. Nothing ever made sense. Nothing.

Carlos knew that his parents loved him very much, and he loved them back just as much. He knew that they didn't care if he was smart or not. The Garcias didn't put him in the special class to humiliate him or make him feel stupid, they put him there to help him. Carlos knew that, but he still couldn't help but feel like his life sucked.

Carlos heard a sound, and his teary eyes shot up, thinking it was the teacher coming in to check on his 'progress'. But instead, a few kids, three or four, stood in the doorway of the classroom.

And then the laughing started again.

'_Loser. Pathetic. Dumb idiot._'

They pointed and laughed at Carlos like he was a caged animal doing something ridiculous. At that moment, that's exactly how Carlos felt. They screamed the names and words, and no matter how much Carlos tried to stop them, the tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto his empty papers.

* * *

Just a little further. Almost there. Just out of the grounds, into publics streets, could be safety.

Logan chanced a glance behind him as he ran. Still the four large kids were in hot pursuit. Still they sported those sadistic smiles. Still they screamed the insults as they chased him.

As long as Logan made it off the school grounds, and into a place swarmed by witnesses, er, people, he could be safe. Maybe.

Logan never hated school more than at that moment. Why did he have to stay late at school to finish that project? Why couldn't he have just done it at home? Sure he didn't have the right equipment at home, and the project was due the next day, but still. He should've found a way and went home with everyone else.

Not that home was any better. Logan's mother barely noticed him. Sometimes he doubted that Mrs. Mitchell knew she even had a son. She most certainly wouldn't notice that he was late now.

Around the school, across the park, through the-

Logan skidded to a stop, falling on his back. There, standing at the gated fence, was Billy and George, staring down at him with those grins that had haunted Logan all year. When Logan turned around, Jason and Kevin slowed to a stop and leered over him.

They all surrounded Logan, and he finally just closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. The last thing he knew was laughter, and strong arms painfully wrapping around his own and dragging him back, before the pain started.

* * *

_"Walking down the street, looking for angels. Everyone I meet, looking for angels."_

Kendall stared at his feet as they led him down the sidewalk. He yearned for something, but didn't quite know what. Though clearly his feet did, as they seemed to have a better communication with his heart than he did at the moment. So, Kendall allowed his feet, directed by his heart, to lead him to what he needed. He didn't bother looking up to see where he was. He didn't bother to stifle his sniffles. He didn't bother to care.

Along the path, Kendall's arm suddenly roughly brushed up against another. Finally he looked up to mutter an apology to the passer-by, who merely shrugged it off and kept walking. Kendall sighed, but observed his surroundings.

A small smile crept along Kendall's face as he registered where he was. He knew exactly where he was going. He continued walking, seeing the house come into view, and his heart erupted in a small flutter of excitement and joy, before returning to its sullen state.

Kendall's smile dropped however, when the sounds of the house escaped to the surrounding streets.

* * *

Sometimes, James regretted what he said. Sometimes his mouth ran of its own accord, without consent of his brain. Sometimes, James regretted the consequences of his words.

Like now.

How do you win an argument when both parties are the most stubborn people in the world? Simple; You switch tactics, to see who's stronger.

The hard fist threw James' head to the side, and his instincts, fueled by fiery rage, flew his own fist into his father's face in return. Then James tackled his father to the ground, and they rolled about in a fit to dominate the other.

James arose on top of his father, and planted punch after punch in his face, until his father nailed him in the head again, flinging him to the side. Then his father mimicked James and pinned James down, then repeatedly punched him in the face.

James found an opening and knocked his father to the ground, then they both rose to their feet. Angry stares were shared, along with rage-filled growls. Then his father advanced, punching James' stomach. James doubled over in pain, then punched his father in the side, causing him to stagger back.

The fight was carried from the kitchen, to the foyer near the front door. Mr. Diamond picked up a vase from the end table and flung it at James' head, but James ducked in time and the vase shattered on the floor. James threw another punch right into his father's face, and his father retaliated the same way, sending his fist hard into James' face.

James staggered back into the stairwell, falling onto the stairs unceremoniously. White and black dots danced in front of his vision, as well as the leering image of his father pulling back in another swing. James shielded himself from the blow, knowing there was nothing else he could do at that point.

Suddenly, Mr. Diamond's arm was caught, ceasing its trajectory into James' face, and Kendall appeared, then flew a punch into Mr. Diamond's face, flinging him to the ground in an unconscious heap.

James blinked at the stars from the hit, and the shock from the sight. Kendall grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet, asking if he was alright. James merely nodded, his head still spinning slightly. he glanced over at his unconscious father before another thought hit him.

But Kendall, like he always did, knew what James was thinking and assured him that his mother had fled the house as per Kendall's instructions when he had arrived. He had told Mrs. Diamond to take refuge at his own house, with his mother, her friend.

Kendall carefully led James over his father and out the door, grabbing James' coat on the way.

They reached the sidewalk and Kendall wrapped James' coat around his friend, keeping his arm tightly around his shoulders for comfort.

The adrenaline and anger had worn off, and James finally let tears run down his face. He sniffled and wiped a bit of blood from his nose with the back of his hand. He felt Kendall tighten his grip around his shoulders and gently leaned into him in response.

Kendall watched his hurt friend with worry and sympathy. He was glad he got there when he did. He had needed the comfort of James' presence before, which is why he went there in the first place. But now he knew that James needed him just as much as he did James. They needed each other more than anything at that moment.

But they weren't the only ones they needed.

Kendall knew where to go next. He led James down the street, to their next destination.

James felt Kendall's gentle leading push, then it sparked. He knew where they were going as well.

* * *

Carlos brought his hands over his head defensively, as if that would protect him from the barrage of awful words being thrown at him. He huddled further into the corner, trying to stop his tears.

'_Loser. Baby. Moron. Retard._'

They just kept coming. The kids had cornered Carlos, surrounded him in hate and ridicule and disdain. They pointed down at him as he curled into the corner, making himself as small as possible, looking like a scared, cornered little animal. They snickered and cackled and laughed as they screamed the verbal abuse down at Carlos.

Tears of fear and humiliation streaked Carlos' face as his eyes sealed tightly. He tried his hardest to block it all out, to ignore the laughter and the names. But they just kept attacking him and knocking him down. He knew there was no escaping, no refuge, no safe place for him to hide from the hatred and laughter. The worst part was, Carlos was starting to believe them.

Suddenly the laughing stopped, as did the names. Instead of yells of ridicule, yells of anger were exchanged through the room. Carlos didn't dare open his eyes though. He barely registered any of it through his hurt and scared mind. There was a clatter, a few hits thrown, and then it was quiet.

Then Carlos heard a voice. But not the voices he was hearing before. This was a gentle, and caring voice. Carlos opened his teary eyes and stared up at Kendall and James in confusion, then gratitude.

Kendall and James both helped Carlos to his feet, looking him over for injuries. Carlos assured them that he wasn't hurt physically. They nodded and both wrapped Carlos in a tight group hug of love, care and security. Just what Carlos needed.

For at least five minutes, Carlos cried into their shoulders as he squeezed them tight, feeling their tight and safe squeeze in return. Finally Carlos regained control and pulled away, then nodded to them with a tearful smile.

Kendall and James offered small smiles in return and patted Carlos' shoulders, then they both slung an arm around him and led him out of the classroom.

Carlos wrapped his arms around his friends, letting them led him away. He leaned against them for comfort, sighing in relief as they exited the school.

Then they all walked around, searching. Until they heard voices behind the school.

* * *

_"We need it. We need, we need more than this."_

How much pain can one person endure before they finally pass out? Or before they die?

At that moment, Logan was sure there was no answer.

The hits never stopped, never respited, never lessened or weakened. Logan's whole body was screaming in pain as the four boys unleashed everything they had on him. Logan was almost positive that he'd already passed out at least twice, but was re-awakened by another painful hit. Not even unconsciousness could relieve him anymore.

Logan racked his brain, trying to think of what he did to deserve the torture he was enduring. Was he that bad of a person? Was he such a horrible, and unkind, and evil human being, that he deserved to be pummeled every day until he was hanging on a thread of life? That he deserved to be ridiculed by the whole school? That he deserved to be completely ignored by his own mother all his life?

Logan had tried to be better. He tried to be the nicest person ever. He tried to be polite and considerate and generous. He tried to be smart and athletic and talented. He tried to be the best he could be.

But none of that seemed to matter.

A crack. Probably one of Logan's ribs finally giving under the constant barrage of attacks. Logan screamed in pain as the kids laughed in delight. This was the first time anything ever broke. Usually the kids were more careful. They never did anything to send him to the hospital.

But today, they just didn't seem to care.

The tears flowed freely from Logan's weak gaze. How much more was his own body going to make him endure before unconsciousness, or death, finally relieved him? He prayed it would be soon. And by how hard it was to take in a breath at that point, it probably would be.

Suddenly the barrage stopped, the pain ceased, the laughing and yelling silenced.

The sounds of flesh hitting flesh sounded again, but the pain usually accompanying them didn't hit Logan. More yelling filled the air, but the angry words were far away from Logan, not directed at him.

There were scurrying footsteps, then approaching footsteps. Fear accelerated Logan's heart, and he tensed, expecting the pain to return with a fiery vengeance.

A hand was laid on Logan's shoulder and he flinched, jerking away from it as much as he could. But the touch wasn't painful, it was gentle.

Soft voices filtered through Logan's rattled brain, and finally, he looked up at the worried and caring faces of Kendall, James and Carlos.

Though it was small and weak, Logan's smile lit up his battered face. The others smiled in return, and they gently helped him up. Kendall and James slung Logan's arms around their shoulders, and they walked. Away from the school, away from their troubles, away from it all.

Together.

* * *

Kendall stared at the tombstone in front of him. Tears filled his eyes but he still smiled lightly as he traced the name of his father carved into the stone.

Everyday Kendall missed his father. Everyday he missed talking to him and telling him all about his day and hearing about his father's day. Everyday, Kendall missed when his father would teach him and joke with him and love him. He missed when his father would make his mother smile, and his sister laugh.

Some days, Kendall missed him more than others. Some days, he felt that he couldn't go another day without his father.

This was one of those days.

But unlike how the day began, the heavy sadness and pain felt lessened. It felt less suffocating and crushing and devastating.

Kendall felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked over to see James offering him a sad smile. When Kendall turned to the other side, he saw Carlos with Logan safely in his arms, weakly leaning against his chest. Both mimicked James' sad smile.

This was why the pain was easier to bear. This was why the heavy weight in Kendall's heart wasn't so heavy anymore.

Because he wasn't alone.

James patted Kendall's shoulder comfortingly, offering the same reassurance that Kendall had when he picked James up from his house.

James no longer felt angry or depressed about his screwed-up house and childhood. He didn't feel worthless and pathetic like his father had always screamed at him. He didn't feel that ache in his heart as prominently, because he knew his father was wrong.

And James knew his father was wrong because his friends were the ones that had built him up. They had taken out everything his father put in his brain and replaced it with love and kindness.

James didn't feel angry or depressed anymore.

Because he wasn't alone.

Carlos gave Logan a comforting squeeze, and offered Kendall and James the best smile he could muster. Though it wasn't that hard, because the smile was already breaking out on his face.

Carlos didn't feel stupid or scared or idiotic like everyone had always said he was. He didn't feel like he couldn't do anything right anymore. He stopped believing the voices calling him dumb and pathetic and retarded, because he had a different set of voices to listen to.

Carlos' friends always said that he was special. But they didn't mean that he was stupid. They meant that he was a one of a kind. They knew that Carlos had a different way of learning, and they had found that way. They were always the ones to help him understand a certain problem, and the solution to fix it. They were the only ones to make things click in Carlos' brain, and praise him when he figured it out. They gave him confidence and security.

Carlos didn't feel like a scared, mindless, and stupid animal stuck in the corner anymore.

Because he wasn't alone.

Logan gave Carlos a weak squeeze as he lay in Carlos' arms, and offered Kendall and James a weak smile and a nod.

Logan didn't feel lost or worthless or unwanted anymore. He didn't feel like the world was out to get him like all those bullies all throughout his life had made it seem. He didn't feel like he wasn't worth loving like his inattentive mother had led him to believe. Because none of them mattered.

When Logan was down, hurt, depressed, when the bullies beat him and shouted how worthless and pathetic and weak he was, when his mother ignored him as he walked into the house a bloody mess, it didn't matter. Logan didn't need their approval, because he had his friends.

Logan's friends were the ones that took care of him. They looked after Logan when he was hurt or sick or sad. They protected him from anyone that wanted to hurt him. They showed him love and care, they made him feel safe, and wanted.

Logan didn't feel worthless or unwanted anymore.

Because he wasn't alone.

All throughout their lives, from the day they met, Kendall, James, Carlos and Logan, have always been there for each other. They've always been what the others needed. They always knew what the others were going through, and how to make them feel better. They gave the others the strength and courage they needed to make it through the day.

Because that's what brothers do.

Kendall stood from the grave and slung one of Logan's arms around him. Then with Carlos' help, they lifted Logan to his feet.

James stood by, ready to help in any way he could, just like they always did.

Kendall looked at each of his friends, and their hurt, teary, sullen faces. He knew what all of them were going through. He knew that life was just as hard on them as it was on him, some even more so.

But despite all that pain and hurt that shadowed them, they still smiled. They still let the light come through, and brighten what started out as a terrible day. They still cared and loved and laughed like any other person. They didn't let all of life's hardships bring them down. They stayed strong.

Because they weren't alone.

They had each other, and that's exactly what they needed.

Kendall smiled at his friends. "Come on guys." He said softly. "Let's get out of here."

So they walked out of the cemetery, arms around each other, and light smiles on their faces. They made it through another day. And they knew they could make it through the next. As long as they had each other.

Because they each had three guardian angels to get them through it.

_"In the midst of the most painful faces,  
__Angels show up in the strangest of places."_

* * *

**Author's note: Yeah, it's cheesy. Cheesier than a cheese platter! But I had fun writing it. :) Remember, this was originally seen as a music video, so that's why it's written the way it is, and why there's like, no dialogue in it. XD**

**Hope it wasn't too odd and boring and cheesy for you. :P**


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